Day 19: Vynxem’s Journal

The wind picked up the last of the day’s whispers as I lay there, my head resting on the cold stone. I don’t know why I keep going back to the old ruins. It’s not the place itself, not really—it’s the way the shadows shift there, how they seem to stretch toward me like they’re waiting. Vex said something by the river last night, words that stuck in my throat like sand. I can’t remember what he said exactly, but I know it was important. The kind of thing that lingers even when you try to forget it. I kept thinking about it all night, how the water felt heavy against my palms, how the moonlight on the river was so quiet. My stomach ached, but it wasn’t hunger—it was something deeper, like the quiet ache of a memory I can’t quite reach. I wonder what tomorrow will bring… but right now, I just want to feel the wind on my face again.